


Impediment

by zycroft



Category: Mad Dogs (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 11:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zycroft/pseuds/zycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baxter would rather Quinn bang on about Alvo’s mispronounced broccoli than his stammering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impediment

All these years later and Quinn was still banging on about how Alvo used to pronounce ‘broccoli’. Maybe in the midst of all this insanity, Quinn had started to grieve, started thinking about Alvo’s murder as the loss of their friend instead of the springboard into this halcyon nightmare.

Baxter doubted he’d grieve any time soon. His mind was was still reeling from the sudden appearance of Tiny Blair in the villa. Christ, that was only a week ago! And now he’s got Carmen here in his arms and he’s high on endorphins and absolutely amazed that she’d want him the way he wants her and Alvo is a distant memory, the kid who couldn’t pronounce ‘broccoli’ who’s just not as big a part of their lives anymore. Geographically removed, distant in every way.

Quinn was probably closest to Alvo. Alvo had always looked up to him since their schooldays. Or maybe Woody. Woody had kept closer touch with him, it seems. Rick was a pariah and wasn’t close to anyone. 

As for himself, he’d just drifted from them all. The girls, the divorce, the disbarment. Only Quinn might’ve understood what he was going through, but what was he gonna do? Ring him up and say, “Listen mate, I’m going through some stuff. Meet me for a pint?” Not hardly. 

Besides, his stammer had crept back during the roughest stuff and he’d rather Quinn bang on about Alvo’s mispronounced broccoli than his stammering. He’d overcome it by sixth form and no one had noticed it after Tiny bathed him in Alvo’s warm blood.

Jesus. Still warm, it was. You see it on telly and know it isn’t real, know it isn’t 37°, and it never strikes you that it’s in the wrong place. On telly, it’s natural to see a pool of blood. But in real life, in real life blood is supposed to be inside someone, not all around and under them, and most definitely not smeared across an old school mate’s face.

Carmen can’t miss the way he shudders and convulsively pulls her closer. The heat radiating from her is somehow softer, kinder than the warmth of Alvo’s blood and he strokes his hand against her to feel the skin tighten and dimple in response.

Alive. Just like him. And if he can stay this way, maybe Carmen can escape this island she calls a prison and become his partner. She can work alongside him during the day and sit with him on the settee at night while they watch…whatever she wants. Emma and Lindsay would like her, he knows it. And with her around, with a woman’s influence again, maybe he can be a good father to his girls again.

If he can stay alive.


End file.
